


Collection

by seeminglyincurablesentimentality (myinnerchildisbored)



Series: Rose Shelby vs. All the Bastards [21]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 11:07:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20563271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myinnerchildisbored/pseuds/seeminglyincurablesentimentality
Summary: Rose has been on the road for an age. Tommy comes to get her.





	Collection

**Author's Note:**

> Right. So this one is a bit of an experiment, as you will see. It's also the last one of this series (for now).

There were lines on Tommy’s face that Rose didn’t remember ever seeing, carvings nearly. He looked like he’d been sleeping with his jacket rolled up as a pillow, like he’d only just woken and the creases hadn’t had time to fade. He was like a painting, _Man on a Horse_, not one bit of him was moving, his eyes locked on her with no intention of ever blinking again, nailing her into place.

She was beautiful. There were twigs in her hair and scratches down her shins. The last of the season’s bilberries had stained her fingers purple and her feet hadn’t seen shoes in weeks by the looks of it. She was so beautiful that the last lingering ache under Tommy’s ribs took one look at her and melted away. He’d missed her so much it hurt, but he only knew this now that the pain was gone.

They’d gone swimming in the Dedham Old River, weeks and weeks ago, Ronja and Rose and Sharon and the cousins. It was deeper than they’d expected, faster as well; Rose had been off and under before she knew what was happening. She was a good swimmer, but she wasn’t a fish. Her lungs were bursting by the time Jimmy Lee ploughed across the river and dragged her up onto the bank. They’d called him Tarzan for days after. Now her lungs felt like they were about to burst again, but Tarzan Lee was nowhere in sight.

_Rosie’s well..._ He’d heard it from phonebooths all over the country. Daia Lee phoned the shop, caught him at the office, rang at the big house. Rose was well. She’d taken to the road like a bird to the sky. The Lee girls doted on her, the horses came when she called, the sun was keeping her warm and the _vitsa_ was keeping her fed. Daia Lee hadn’t told him just how much Rose had grown, tall and dark and freckled and, judging by the look on her, even more skeptical. Maybe they hadn’t noticed because they saw her every day.

He’d come to get her. There wasn’t a word big enough to fit the luminous joy that spread inwards from Rose’s tingling fingertips. They were hours from Birmingham, hours more from the big house, yet he’d gotten onto a horse and come to get her. Like it was nothing. The fucking bastard. The tingle reached Rose’s chest and turned white hot. If it was so easy, why had it taken him so long?

When he’d imagined going to get Rosie, Tommy had never thought past this. This moment, the moment when he’d see her and she’d see him…it had been impossible to think a single second further. It had been the same with Charlie, this single-minded focus on simply seeing for himself that the child was there, unhurt and breathing. Tommy had no conscious memory of crossing the room towards his son. One moment he saw him, the next he was in his arms. And now, here he was with Rosie. And he couldn’t even move to get off the horse.

The eldest of the Lee cousins, Evelina, had gotten her heart broken the last week of June. Davey Strutter, after giving her the treatment at every fair and fire, was spotted eating the face of some gadj-girl behind the boxing booth at the Wimbish fair. Evelina had wept like the world was coming to an end, for close to two days. Then, when Davey Strutter came calling bearing gifts of wildflowers and ham, near bawling with contrition, Evelina had given him the cold shoulder – only to dissolve into tears as soon as he’d slunk off. It was a question of maintaining your dignity, she’d explained to Rose and Ronja once she’d pulled herself together. When a man broke his word and your trust, no second chance was to be given. No matter how much you wanted to give it. No matter how much it hurt.

Tommy saw Rose’s jaw tense and her stare harden. Her hands were turning into small, hard fists; her toes digging into the ground, like she was trying to keep herself from running off. Or from running towards him. There was a rivulet of cold sweat, tracing along his spine, making him shiver. Tommy willed himself into action. He’d get off the horse. She’d come then. Whatever it was they had, whatever you wanted to call it, it had withstood years of separation during the war; surely, it couldn’t have been broken by five months on the road.

He bounced a bit when he came down from the horse, Rose’s father, it made the shoulders of his jacket and the chain of his watch rise and fall as though underwater. Now that he was on the ground, Rose couldn’t see his eyes anymore, the cap was in the way. His mouth was open though, just a bit, but there was no words, nothing. It didn’t matter. Rose was keeping her dignity. She’d walk off. Just as soon as her legs were feeling like legs again. She’d disappear into the fields until he gave up and went back home. He’d had his chance.

When he was in hospital, Tommy had very nearly asked Johnny Dogs to bring Rosie back. She might have stayed with Ada, visited in the afternoons; might have understood that he hadn’t left her to have Easter on her own because he couldn’t be bothered. She’d have understood just from the state of him; half his head shaven like some nutter and stitches running the length of his scalp, he looked fucking frightful. He didn’t want her to see. Simple as that. For her sake and his.

He lifted his head and Rose could see his eyes shining from under the peak. They had the sort of look of someone approaching an angry dog. Weary of making any sudden movements, uncertain what might happen and determined not to let any fear show. It made Rose want to bare her teeth.

Tommy was vaguely aware that some of the Lees around them had stopped what they were doing and were watching them now. They could look all they liked, think what they wanted; they might as well have been blades of grass. He started towards Rosie, slowly, the way he’d come to a wild horse. Kept his eyes on her and his face straight, his hands low and his breathing even.

Sometimes when sleep took its time coming, Rose had passed the time thinking of things she might do the day her father came to bring her home. She pictured herself looking at him, her chin raised and her back straight, putting on such a forbidding stare he would turn heel and run off. She’d imagined walking up to him, ramming her knee into his bollocks and walking away as he was curled up on the ground. She’d thought she might pretend that he wasn’t there at all, make him feel like a ghost; or spitting on the ground before him. There had been many scenarios but they all ended in Rose staying with the Lees and Tommy, defeated, riding back to the big house and his darling little boy; hopefully, but by no means certainly, to spend the rest of his life ruing the day he’d sent her away.

He was so close now; even without his glasses he could see Rosie shaking. She’d somehow looked taller when he was on horseback. Now that Tommy was only a couple of yards away, though, she was tiny. She still didn’t even come up to his shoulder. He’d told himself she was old enough to spend a wild summer on the road, that she was having an adventure she’d always remember; but she was just a little girl. And she was furious.

He stopped. Rose’s eyes moved up on their own accord; by the time she got to his chest, she was shaking all over. There was white-hotness burning her ribs to ash, every muscle inside her was vibrating, blood was rushing in her ears. Maybe the heat was coming off her, maybe that was what had stopped him, fear of getting burned. Or maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe he’d expected her to come at him with arms open wide and now what she wasn’t, he’d decided not to bother taking her home.

She wasn’t coming. He was feet away now, almost close enough to reach out and touch her…no, fuck touching her…Tommy was nearly close enough to scoop her up, wrap her around himself and run; run until they were so far away from all the shite raining down around him they’d never even smell it; and she wasn’t coming.

Rose’s eyes were stuck on her father’s collar. Even for a ride on his own out in the middle of nowhere he was always buttoned to the top. Like a knight in his armour.

He’d make her come. If she ran, he’d chase after her and drag her kicking and screaming to the horse, sit on her if need be. Drag her away from her newfound sisters and the sun and the open road and Daia Lee’s endless supply of affections. It made a man feel like a bastard just thinking about it.

Any moment now, he’d turn and leave. It was all he ever did when she displeased him. Leave her surrounded by too many feelings to ever get a handle on, too busy with pressing matters to deal with her.

She might be better off, Rosie, if she stayed. It had certainly been true until now. Tommy’s corner of the world had burned and warped and hardened into a jagged, rocky landscape, while Rose had been sleeping amongst wild strawberries and half-wild horses. He’d allowed nearly everyone he cared about to be locked up; it seemed cruel to do the same to her.

Rose didn’t know if she’d be able to stop herself from running after her father when he turned to go.

It was the decent thing to do; or perhaps the cowardly thing. Either way, Tommy couldn’t make himself move any direction. Not towards Rose and not away from her.

It wasn’t true. She’d run and throw herself at his feet, wrap around his ankles and beg him to take her. Evelina would be disappointed. Rose herself would be, too. She dug her toes even deeper into the ground.

A lifetime ago, Rose had fallen asleep in the back of the car. Tommy didn’t remember where they’d been; probably just late going back to the house from town. His hand was already on her shoulder to shake her awake when he thought better of it. She’d barely stirred when he carried her into the house. They’d passed Grace on the stairs and she’d given him the strangest look. After he’d put Rose on her bed, eased her boots off her feet and painstakingly slid her out off her coat; he’d turned to find Grace leaning in the doorway. _It’s a shame_, she’d said. _It’s a shame she has to be asleep for you to be able to do that._

Fuck him, fuck him, _fuck him_. Rose was stoking the fire inside her, fighting a boiling kettle of tears threatening to fill up her head. He didn’t care. He didn’t. And nor did she.

They’d been robbed, Rosie and himself. The war had robbed them, the business had robbed them and all the shit that came with being the man he was had robbed them. Tommy couldn’t hand over what little time was left to rob without putting up a fight. Even if it was the right thing to do.

She’d been orright without him; he hadn’t even been there for half of her life and those years hadn’t been any more terrible than the years that had come after. It had been orright with him there and it had been orright without him on the road…only it hadn’t not really. Because once you knew what it felt like to belong with a person, whether they wanted you or not, being away from them was sad.

She looked up so suddenly, she might as well have punched him. Her eyes were brimming with tears, she seemed to be holding them in by sheer force of will, deathly determined. They winded him, those eyes of hers. Keeping her out of harm’s way had been such an overwhelming need, the absolute objective, he’d broken her heart in the process.

Maybe it was the blurr of her tears, but for a fraction of a moment, her father turned into a dancing bear. Swaying a little, its de-clawed paws aching from standing to long, its eyes shining with pain and shame.

Rosie.

Rose’s tears washed the bear away and her father reappeared. His arms opened, palms turned out, ever so slightly.

“_Ita, bitti kom_.”

She crashed into him with such force she nearly knocked him over.

His arms wrapped around her until it was hard to draw breath. He smelled of cigarettes and horse and rain.

To be able to stuff her under his jacket, the way he’d done when she was a tiny baby born at the end of a disgustingly cold winter; to keep her like this until he was sure he’d made up for everything. It was a foolish thing to wish for, but Tommy wished it nonetheless.

They might have stood like this for a minute or a decade; they broke apart only when their hearts had slowed down.

“Orright?” Tommy asked.

Rose looked up at him and he ran a rough thumb over her tear-stained cheek. Only _dinlos_ kept looking for unicorns in a wood full of horses; Daia Lee was forever telling them that.

“Yea,” Rose said croakily.

She’d take the fucking horse. She’d take it gladly and get back on it no matter how many times it bucked her off and trampled her into the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> Ita, bitti kom- Hello, little love 
> 
> I'll see you lot in S5 xx


End file.
